


Three Years

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-26
Updated: 2008-02-26
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: One man must face his past in order to face the future.





	Three Years

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Beta work by wolfiekins

It had been three years.

Three years since that fateful day in June when the entire world had changed.

Three years since The Final Battle, and three long years since one young man had had any contact with the life he once knew.

Three years since he had been among the few to be named a _survivor_.

It was the third anniversary of The Final Battle and Seamus Finnegan had finally been able to accept his invitation to the annual memorial service. It had taken three years for him to be able to make the journey to this place, physically and emotionally.

He had spent the first year and the first anniversary in hospital, recovering and recuperating from the battle. Nightmares plagued him by night and haunted him by day. He had spent the first year trying to accept his scars and his now useless left eye.

He had hidden from the world as the second anniversary arrived. He felt unable to face a world changed so drastically. The absence of friends was more profound in familiar settings, so he tried in vain to escape painful memories. But while he could escape the outside world, he could not escape himself, and the guilt he felt for having survived when others had not threatened to overwhelm him.

The remote house in Donegal had allowed him some respite and refuge from the world but his dreams had followed him; the loneliness and sadness persisted.

And so when his invitation to the third memorial service had arrived, he knew what he had to do. He owed it to his lost friends to start truly living again, to face his past in order to move to the future. He was terrified and unsure, but tired of hiding and tired of being alone. It was now or never…time to face the past and move to the future.

It was early in the morning as Seamus approached the monument. The sun was just starting to appear over the tops of the familiar buildings but a tenacious fog still clung to the quiet doorsteps and narrow lanes.

“Anois no choiche,” he whispered as he ran a shaking hand across his scarred face, and began to walk towards the monument. Diagon Alley was quiet at this early hour of the morning, the crowds and the press would appear in a few hours. He was most grateful for the stillness, as he needed the time to be alone without scrutiny.

The cool marble glistened in the early morning light as Seamus reached it and could see the first familiar name.

_Harry James Potter_

…his full title was etched after his name, but for Seamus he would always be his friend, the person who accepted him even after a fight and a shouting match.

The person who had sacrificed everything to save them all.

_Dean Thomas_

It was this name that brought the tears to Seamus’ eyes. Dean Thomas. Best friend and confidant…artist and joker. The man who had fought by his side as the battle raged and chaos reigned…the friend whose laughter and smiles haunted his dreams and made reality even more painful.

_Neville Longbottom_

It was the name of a kind and loyal friend, brave and selfless, who fought bravely until he was taken from the world. He had jumped in front of a killing curse being sent towards Hermione.

As Seamus read each name he could remember the last time he had seen each of them. He could remember the pain as the curse had hit him, robbing him of consciousness and eventually the sight in his left eye.

The tears fell freely as he remembered.

Too many names were etched onto the cold stone, too many friends lost in battle. Familiar names mixed with some unfamiliar ones as he scanned the marble monument.

Too many people taken before their time.

He reached forward, placed his hand upon the cool marble and whispered, “Mo chara…Solas na bhFlaitheas ar a bhur anam.”

A gentle hand reached to him and it was only when he heard another voice break the quiet that he realised that he was not alone.

“Hello Seamus, it’s good to see you.” Hermione said as she reached forward and pulled him into a friendly hug before stepping back to look at him. “It’s been too long.”

Ron, who had been standing uncharacteristically quietly at Hermione’s side, reached for Seamus’ hand before pulling him into a quick hug.

The three survivors stood in the silence for a while, standing side by side at the monument to their friends. Seamus observed that he was not the only one crying, when he noticed that Hermione was sobbing quietly on Ron’s shoulder as the young redhead tried to comfort her, their hands intertwined.

Hermione dried her tears after a few minutes however, and approached Seamus. She looked at him seriously as if challenging him to even try to lie to her. “How are you Seamus?”

Seamus was most grateful that his friends had approached him from his right side.

“I’m getting there Hermione…I’m getting there.”

He smiled slightly in gratitude when Hermione nodded her head in acceptance of his answer. He really wasn’t able to go into any more details at this time.

“It’s strange to be here,” he whispered as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself.

“Tell me about it mate,” Ron said as he scanned the all too familiar monument and tried to maintain his composure. “We weren’t sure if you were going to be here this year, since every letter we sent to you was sent back unopened.”

Hermione interrupted as Seamus tried to find the words to reply.

“What Ron is trying to say, in his completely tactless way…” She sent a small smile in Ron’s direction before turning her attention back to Seamus. “We’ve been worried about you.”

Seamus was tempted to look away and stare at the ground as he replied but he forced himself to hold his head steady and look them in the eye. Hermione and Ron were his friends and they deserved so much more than that. “It’s taken me a while to get to this day.”

Both Ron and Hermione nodded their heads in understanding; no more words were needed to explain. They appeared genuinely pleased that he was here today and clearly sympathised with what he’d been going through over the past few years.

Seamus turned his attention back to the marble monument, cold and harsh. It didn’t seem right to remember his friends in this way. How could the cool stone remember the way Neville would try to help when Harry had his nightmares, or the way he had the power to make anything grow in the school’s greenhouses? Neville’s smile and his bravery could never be remembered through such bleak stone, it lived on in the people that knew him.

Dean’s name chiselled into stone failed to show the world the artist that he truly was, or how he’d been a trusted best friend and loyal confidant. Dean’s smile was permanently etched in Seamus’ memory and not on the rather drab and uninspired surface of the memorial. .

Harry’s name, and the title that he hated, engraved forever on a marble monument could never capture the essence of the friend that they had had the honour of knowing.

It seemed that Seamus was not the only one who was thinking this as a sad chuckle broke the silence.

“Do you two remember when Dean drew those funny drawings of all the teachers and somehow they ended up being displayed where everyone could see them?"

The change of the subject and Ron’s attempt to act innocent for his past actions caused a small smile to creep across Seamus’ face.

“Yeah, you do know that he got a week's worth of detentions for that, even though they were great drawings.”

Ron raised his hands in defence. “Hey, how was I supposed to know that git Snape was going to see his?”

Hermione joined in with a smile. “If I remember correctly though, Professor Dumbledore awarded Dean twenty points for excellent artistic ability and for making him laugh.”

The three survivors smiled as they remembered that moment.

Seamus’ heart grew lighter as the day progressed and many other good memories were shared.

The memories of their friends would live on in them.


End file.
